


One for Sorrow

by diaphanous87



Series: The Many Ships of Tilly [11]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Violence, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), No beta we die like mne, Oops?, Tilly had kept some shit bottled up, and if you love someone then let them go, have some pain, just let it all out Tilly, pre-shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaphanous87/pseuds/diaphanous87
Summary: Some wounds of the heart still fester. And so when Magnai tries to convince Tilly to love him as he loves her, she breaks. For how could she ever love again? No, no, no. This is wrong. She is not his Nhaama! It was impossible!She cannot give her heart to anyone for its pieces were still scattered across the floor of the Vault.
Relationships: Past Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light - Relationship, one-sided Magnai Oronir/Warrior of Light
Series: The Many Ships of Tilly [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536589
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	One for Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> *throws angst at readers, runs away*

* * *

** One for Sorrow **

* * *

Slim hands were held out to the sides of their owner, the tops of the waist tall grasses brushing calloused palms. A miqo’te walked the plains alone. Her breath misted in the cooling air like little clouds. At her back the sun was slowing setting in the west. The rays highlighted her shoulders exposed by her sleeveless vest, her scars naught but shadows, and the nape of her bare neck. Her short fuchsia hair seemed to match the changing colors of the sky. She came to a stop, her hands falling to her sides. She looked over her shoulder, a color of her bright green eye and slit pupil now visible to her follower.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, tone soft and solemn. She turned around to face them. “Or am I no longer allowed to be alone?”

“Khaagan…”

Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment to hide the flash of frustration. “I have a name,” she said, lips turned down in a frown. She glanced up at the man before her.

“Tylda.”

“You do not have permission to use that,” she snapped. “It is Ma’tylda to you.”

Magnai scowled when she whirled away from him. “Nhaama, wait!” He hurried after her.

“I am not your nhaama!” Spinning on her heel, Tilly slammed a fist into his belly. His breath escaped with a pained whoosh and grunt. “Stop calling me that!”

The xaela auri wheezed. “You are my moon,” he said between heaving breaths. “Why do you not see that I am your Azim?” He looked up from where he had fallen to his knees before the miqo’te. His golden gaze was pleading. “Do you not see the sun when you look upon me?”

Tilly took an unsteady step back, hands over her mouth and tears brimming in her eyes. “You are not him. He died. He died!” She fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands. She bowed, her bright colored bangs brushing the soil. She wept, her shoulders heaving and the sounds of her long buried grief erupting at last.

Making a noise of horror, Magnai shuffled on his knees toward her. He scooped her up into his arms. He paid her beating fists against his chest no mind. Instead he thumped down onto his bottom and cradled the wailing woman. His hand gently cupped the back of her head to press her wet face to his shoulder. She muffled her screams and tears in the leathers and fur. He murmured senseless comfort against her temple as he rocked her back and forth.

He saw now. He saw her sorrow. How long had she held it in? How long since she let herself cry for her lost one? Did she even let herself weep like this before?

Magnai curled himself around Tilly and vowed one thing: to let her go despite his own shattered heart. Perhaps she would never see him the way that he saw her. But the big xaela came to terms with it there in the final rays of the day’s light as twilight fell across the Steppe. Tilly slowed her weeping rage and fell into an exhausted sleep in his lap, though he felt no joy at the sign of trust.

“Whoever you were, oh Sun of Ma’tylda, know that I would have loved her for all of our days. But I fear she shall never love me. And so I shall bury my love for the pain it causes her.” Magnai swayed up to his feet, his arms filled with miqo’te. He looked down at her sun kissed face stained with tears and twisted in pain. “I will cease my pursuit, Ma’tylda.” He would let her go as he vowed to the set sun.

And maybe one day, his Nhaama would come back to him with a lighter heart and a chance for something bright and new.

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**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or comment if you like!


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